New Life
by redshirtedensign
Summary: There was blood, lots of it. Green and red mixing in some sick form of art made from the life forces of the only two beings in the universe that had ever truly accepted him for the man, freak he was. B/K/S, Warning: sexual and violent themes Reaper!Bones
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Two hundred years. It had been two hundred years since Olduvai. Only thirty since he had finally been able to stop running. Stop hiding. Stop keeping his distance, his heart locked away. People had come and gone through his life, true enough. He had had relationships of varying levels, one night stands, a week or two; he had even been married recently until she had noticed her age marks were not mirrored by his own. She kicked him out and only kept their daughter under her roof because he had told her that Jo would age like her mother. But even then in John 'Reaper' Grimm's, now Doctor Leonard 'Bones' McCoy's, long life had he been so close to losing everything.

There was blood, lots of it. Green and red mixing in a sick form of art made from the life forces of the only two beings in the universe that the soldier had the courage to care for. They lay there in his arms slipping away from him, his Captain and First Officer, friends and lovers, people whom without, his long existence would be just that: an existence.

Bones felt a stab of sheer pain rip through him as Jim's heart stuttered and he felt how cold Spock was against him, the Vulcan's usual blazing heat pooling around them. A bolt of terrifying inspiration -- he could save them, he could _fix_ that.

_Twelve hours earlier:_

Spock woke that mourning in a rather compromising position, namely butt naked and somewhere in the pile of flesh that was himself, Captain James T. Kirk and Dr. Leonard 'Bones' McCoy, a place he knew most of the ship wanted to be. A place where he was warm, relaxed, and he felt comfortable enough to let his barriers down and just feel.

He glanced at the chronometer and, though he would never admit it, growled at it. They only had a few hours before they were expected to beam down to the planet to be a third, neutral party in a negotiation between two warring cultures, hell bent on either destroying each other or themselves and yet wanting to join the Federation.

Spock sighed inwardly and tried to remove himself from the tangle of limbs so that he could shower and maybe catch an hour or two of meditation before they really had to start the day, only to have Jim reach up around his waist and pull him back against the man's well defined chest.

"And where do you think you're going, mister?" Jim growled in his ear, cool breath ghosting over his sensitive pointed ear.

"You better not be heading for the shower without us, you green blooded hobgoblin," Bones grumbled from where his face was nuzzled up against Spock's chest and pressed further into him.

"I was going to attempt to briefly meditate, before rousing the pair of you to join me in the shower." Spock revised his plan mentally contemplating the images of the three of them in the shower. It would be a tight squeeze, he knew this from experience, but they could all fit.

"Time?" Bones grunted.

"It is yet to turn 0300 hours." Both Jim and Bones groaned and snuggled, yes, _snuggled_, closer to Spock, effectively pinning him. Well, had he been human they would have pinned him. As it was, he was half Vulcan and just stood up. "I need to meditate and you both know this."

"…S'pose, as much as I loved what happened last time." Jim's grin could only be described as 'shit eating' and Bones chuckled with him, shuffling into the vacant spot left by Spock.

"Ha, that was fun."

After Spock had gotten up, the bed became infinitely colder due to the lack of a very warm Vulcan body and Bones hated it when Spock got up before him, but after curling in closer to Jim he managed to go back to sleep for a bit.

The second time he was woken up was a much more pleasant experience. Jim was _always_ horny in the morning. Bones was woken with Jim splayed out on top of him, practically eating his neck and Jim's hard on grinding into his own rapidly hardening cock.

Not that Bones was complaining, but seriously, the guy had issues. Every morning James T. Kirk would wake up and demand sex from either himself, that gorgeous ass of a Vulcan, or both. Sometimes Bones or Spock would sit out and just watch their lovers go at it until either they jerked themselves off or joined in, today Spock had obviously decided he wanted to watch, because Bones could have sworn he heard a quiet moan from somewhere across the room.

On their way out of the Captain's quarters, a shrill whistle was heard over the comm., then, "Bridge to the Captain."

Kirk walked over to the comm. panel and pressed a button on its surface, "Kirk here."

"Captain, the Ambassadors are awaiting your presence to begin their talks." Uhura's smooth voice informed them.

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Commander Spock, Dr. McCoy, and myself will beam down now; tell Sulu he has the Conn while we are down on the planet."

"Aye, Sir." The comm. cut off.

"Jim I need to grab my away kit, I'll meet you two in the transporter room," and with that Bones headed to his quarters down the hall.

When he entered his quarters Bones quickly grabbed the away med kit he had left slung over the back of his desk chair, then reached in between his mattress and bed frame and pulled out the admittedly against regs item that he never left the safety of _Enterprise_ without. Slipping it into a self made pocket on the inside of the back of his pants, Bones left his room and headed to meet up with the others.

The three of them were really only there to stop the negotiations for a cease fire from coming to blows, and _boy_ did they have their work cut out for them. Eventually they had to call a recess before they themselves started hitting the convening ambassadors.

Apparently some people didn't want the war to end and to join the Federation.

Bones was walking down one of the expansive halls with Spock and Jim, quietly chatting about the ambassadors and how frustrating they were.

"I swear Jim, if I have to sit through one more minute of those bloody gas bags, with their holier-than-thou attitude while screaming at each other, I'm going to hit someone," Bones growled.

"I must agree with the doctor, Captain, they are quite… frustrating."

"I know, I mean c'mon...." Jim was interrupted by a loud explosion that rocked the building, then the sound of relatively primitive weapons fire.

Jerking around, the three Starfleet personnel ran towards the commotion, slowing as they neared the battle; Spock and the Captain pulled out their phasers. And not for the first time on an away mission did Bones wish he had gotten combat training in this life.

Spock glanced around the corner they were pressed against for cover to see what they were up against. "It would appear that a small rebel group has penetrated the negotiations, using explosives and weapons based on the propulsion of small samples of metal through the ignition of an easily combustible compound, not dissimilar to Earth weapons predating the creation of the phaser."

"So, just to confirm: Bad guys, explosives and big guns?" Jim asked.

"Indeed."

"Oh, brilliant." Bones grumbled from beside Jim, the furthest from the corner.

The three of them retreated to a small room down the hall from them filled with large wooden storage crates to discuss a plan of attack. Unfortunately they didn't get very far in their planning before the room became a battle ground.

The door was thrown open and a smoke grenade was set off, and Jim, Spock, and Bones dived for cover. It was loud and brutal, the rattle of fully- alien gun-fire echoing off the walls, small fires started in the crates and boxes they were using for cover, and the screams of the men storming them when they were hit by either Spock or the Captain.

_Goddamn it, it's times like these that make me wish I joined Starfleet as the soldier I used be, hell—the soldier I still am. _

Someone cried out in pain, someone whose voice signalled to the doctor half of the good things in life and love. The cry froze his blood. _Jim._ Then another cry. _Spock._

And Bones snapped. The centuries of control over the memories broke like a dam, flooding him with the loss, guilt, pain and now the anger at the people, animals who had just shot the only people who had brought some meaning to his existence.

_Reaper_ emerged from his cage, and all hell was let loose.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Reaper had not always been an isolated entity in Bones' head, taking control when needed. For the first three years of being on the run John Grimm had been Reaper, one and the same, survival and instinct the only things he knew and relied on. He would take lives if need be, shoot or be shot, steal food, money, ammo, not listening to cries for help. John 'Reaper' Grimm was a heartless bastard. He'd had to be.

The discovery of the Ark kicked World War Three into action in 2026, the last straw on the camel's back, especially after all the rumours about mutants. John had been three when the fighting had broken out, food had become hard to come by and he hadn't known anyone who had more than one meal every two or three days, if they were lucky. John had vowed to himself at the tender age of five that he would join the RRTS and do something to stop the war or, at the very least, make sure families got more food.

He had joined up on his eighteenth birthday and managed to delude himself into thinking he was making a difference when he killed. For years, his remaining family –a twin with whom his only communication was a stiff birthday card sent once yearly- drifted further and further away. Then his team had gone to Olduvai. C-24's existence was leaked to the scientific community, and then to military leaders, who wanted it for their soldiers to end the war in their favour. The UAC doctors that checked Sam and him over discovered his successful enhancement and in the matter of months, John became the single most-wanted man on Earth. The widest-known governmental secret never spilled to the public's ears.

John's cold outlook on the world, created after he was forced to leave his sister, Sam, and run or be captured and dissected until he broke out, killing whichever poor science team was posted at the lab he would be held in, was shattered in 2049, when he'd been hiding out in a large refugee camp in the streets of San Francisco. He had been eating the muck they called food, something he would keep for himself, not knowing the next time he might come across a food like substance again, when he had noticed a group of boys beating a woman for her food in front of her child. Normally, he would ignore such things, as little attention as possible is needed when on the run, best to be no more noticeable than cracks in a wall, but the woman looked so much like Sam that he couldn't just leave her to starve.

He would have just stormed over there and beaten the shit out of the boys, but that would mean cops and soldiers, and attention. So instead he waited until they had run off and walked over to the bleeding woman and crying child, sat down next to her, pulled her into a sitting position and handed her the bowl of muck to share with her child, all without a word. After she had taken the bowl from him, thanking him quietly, he proceeded to take care of the wound she had on her forehead. He sat with her until both her and the girl had finished the small amount of food, then got up and left the camp.

After that, John saw the suffering of others everywhere, and every broken woman's face was Sam's, the eyes of every child stared at him with terrorized accusation, and suddenly, living out his selfish existence was appalling. And he was no better than the diplomats he'd started out to stop. The chromosome had made him distant from the world, and he pushed the selfish instincts he'd lived with for the past three years into a corner of his mind. Over years, these instincts separated themselves and the resultant identity named itself Reaper. He would no longer go by the handle ID, and _never_ let Reaper out. And in turn, Reaper became like a monster in a cage, when released, he would kill everyone and everything within his ability to reach.

Now, after watching his Jim and Spock get shot, Jim in the stomach and Spock in the chest, leg, and abdomen, only just missing his heart, Reaper ripped his way free of the mental barriers, feeding on the burning rage Bones felt festering just behind his eyes and seeping through his veins, boiling his blood. Death rained on the rebels attacking them.

Jim was burning, someone was crying out in pain, and it took him longer than he'd liked to realize it was him. Spock was lying next to him in a slowly growing pool of green blood, groaning. He couldn't see where Bones was. God, Bones, how was he going to get out of this? Transporters were out here, something about missile shielding?

Jim blacked out for a few seconds, he hadn't meant to, but as he came to, he realized something was wrong. It took his pain addled mind to realize that someone in blue was standing out in the open, Starfleet science blue presenting an easy target. Bones. He was being shot, Jim could see the holes and small explosions of blood blossoming out his back, but he didn't fall. Then, as he watched, Bones moved slowly, reached behind him and pulled out what was clearly not a standard issue phaser. That was all Jim had seen before he blacked out again.

Reaper stepped out from behind the create he had been sheltering behind and was immediately showered in bullets, the pain only lasted a few seconds, then reached around and drew out his illegal weapon –a shiv he'd made from an Olduvai mutant's bone, found protruding from his back upon returning to a dark Nevadan night. Then he was flying out the door and tearing his enemies apart.

Confusion and fear rippled through the attacking force as the man took the barrage of hot, speeding metal, barely flinching. He threw one man over his shoulder like a stuffed doll, and then grabbed the next by the throat, plunging a sharp knife in the side of his neck. He whipped the blade out, and using the momentum from this, smashed the man behind him in the temple.

Six more men attacked Reaper, shooting, but to their bafflement he managed to dodge most of the bullets and any wounds he suffered vanished in the space of time between one eye blink and the next. He attacked the man closest to him by grabbing the head of his gun, shoving it out of the way and introducing his blade to the man's brains. He then pushed the body into the remaining five men, making them stumble. He pounced, killing the men fast. A slice to the throat, a snap of a neck, broken arm and guts spilling, a blow to the head, and finally a face smashed into the ground.

Reaper stood amongst the carnage, and Bones emerged and eased himself back in control. Stunned for a moment at the speed of what had just happened, it took him a few seconds to remember. When he did, he ran.

There was blood, lots of it. Green and red mixing in a sick form of art made from the life forces of the only two beings in the universe that the soldier had the courage to care for. They lay there in his arms slipping away from him, his Captain and First Officer, friends and lovers, people whom without, his long existence would be just that: an existence.

Bones felt a stab of sheer pain rip through him as Jim's heart stuttered and he felt how cold Spock was against him, the Vulcan's usual blazing heat pooling around them. A bolt of terrifying inspiration -- he could save them, he could _fix_ that.

His tears stopped flowing.

The monsters that had plagued Olduvai, they created more of themselves through spitting their tongues at suiting humans... He bent down to nuzzle at Spock's green smeared neck, let the instinct surface, and bit down. Spock groaned as Bones injected him with the chromosome that would save his life. He released Spock, wiping the green blood from his lips with the back of a hand, and shifted the bodies so that Jim was leaning against him to do the same to him.

Just after biting and injecting Jim, Bones stopped, a thought rising to the forefront of his mind, _'What have I done? They might turn into one of those beasts! I might have just saved them… only to have to kill them myself.'_

Bones moved away from the still forms of his lovers, curling in on himself, shaking, tears starting to flow freely. _'Oh_ God_! What have I done?'_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 **

_'OhGodOhGodOhGod!'_ Bones was in a blind panic, cowering up against a nearby create, knees pulled close to his chest and rocking back and forth, in a manner unlike either of his personalities. _'What if they turn into those monsters? What if they don't? Oh God what have I done?' _When they woke up, if they woke up, and they discovered what he'd done they were going to hate him for turning them into freaks, or worse, they were going to try and eat him because they'd become mutant beasts and he'd have to kill them before they could spread the disease.

_'Oh God… What have I done?'_

Memories of Olduvai played through his head, the strange noises, flashes of movement, blood curdling fear of the unknown, the grief of remembering over and over again the cries of his parents, the need to protect Sam, Dr. Carmac sticking out of the nano-wall with his twitching monstrous arm, Sarge hell bent on killing everything and everyone, firing through the glitching nano-wall, Duke being killed –only he and Sam left - the wall finally solidifying only to have his bullet bounce back and hit him, Sam injecting him with C-24, darkness, then storming through the UAC complex killing every monster he came across. _Sarge…_

Two hundred years of running and hiding across the face of the Earth, only able to stop because of a magnetic storm that had passed over the UAC headquarters and had wiped their database clean including any reference to one genetically altered and superior John 'Reaper' Grimm. Now he had quite possibly sentenced himself, Jim and Spock –if they survived- to that life again, hunted down like animals to be studied under lab conditions.

After the love and friendship these two had given him, how could they forgive him for paying them back by turning them into creatures that will be hunted down and pulled apart molecule by molecule, chromosome by chromosome? He had to get out of the room; he couldn't watch their disgusted faces as they discovered what and who he was and what he'd done to them. Their bond wouldn't survive this. They won't trust him anymore; he would be alone again.

He had thought himself dead, logic had told him that he was to die; the amount of blood he had surely lost should have killed him, even Doctor McCoy would have had trouble saving him, even if he was taken directly to sickbay.

Spock cracked an eye open to survey his surroundings, still in the storage room they had used for cover, definitely not the infirmary. _'Fascinating, I am still alive?'_ he closed his eye again and made a quick examination of his body, noticing that he was completely uninjured. _'Fascinating.'_ He had been 100% sure he had been hit at least twice.

He moved to push himself up and his hand slipped in a pool of liquid, he looked down, blood, green blood, it was defiantly his blood, yet he was uninjured. He noticed at the edge of the thick green pool was another thick liquid, red, human –_Jim_.

Jim's yellow command shirt was almost completely red with blood and he was not breathing, dead. Spock shuffled over to him and stroked the side of his face, taking no note of the smear of blood he left there as a familiar tingle passed through his hand and up his spine, to be felt at the base of his brain. Jim was alive, but not breathing, something was off. With that amount of blood that was so obviously Jim's, he should be dead, but their link was still intact, humming quietly through his skin, but Jim was showing no other signs of life. He opened Jim's mouth to make sure his air way was clear, pressed his lips to Jim's and started breathing for him.

There was a ragged gasp as Jim started breathing on his own again; relief flooded Spock as Jim became conscious. But then he noticed McCoy's absence and he became concerned again.

_'Good God, what was I drinking?'_ the pounding in Jim's head was nearly unbearable, he winced and Spock must be nearby as he felt him flood his head with soothing pulses. He sighed as thinking became slightly easier.

"Spock, what happened?"

"I am unsure," came the soft reply. He opened his eyes slightly to find Spock leaning over him; his usual mask had slipped to show his worry.

"What was I drinking last night?" He groaned as his head started pounding again, then he realized it was Spock's head aching so badly, "No, sorry, what were _you_ drinking last night?"

"I do not believe either of us consumed alcohol last night, we seem to have been seriously injured and have bled profusely, however I cannot find the wounds on either of our bodies."

"Why Spock, were you checking me out while I was unconscious?' Jim teased, with a huge smile plastered across his features. All he got for it was a slight tilt of the head. He sighed and patted Spock's knee, "C'mon, help me up and we'll go find Bones. This silence is starting to scare me." Sure enough, now that it had been pointed out, the complete lack of sound in the complex felt almost palpable, painful even, and down right eerie.

He held out his hand and was taken by surprise as he was thrown halfway across the room when Spock had only lightly tugged at his arm.

"What the hell was that for?" he exclaimed.

Spock just looked down at his hands, confusion flitting across his face, "I did not intentionally do that Jim, I used the same amount of force I would usually use to lift you, I was sure I had restrained my strength sufficiently..." he trailed of as he looked up to where Jim was standing, only just noticing the shattered boxes between them."Jim, did your vector take you through those creates?"

Kirk looked at the destruction that lay between the two of them, and then returned his gaze back to his lover, astonishment clear on his features, "I believe you're correct, Mr. Spock,"

There was silence for a moment, then, "WHAT THE _FUCK_?"

Bones had heard Jim's outburst, he was only down the hall making sure no one would find them, and the confusion and anger present in the captain's voice sent chills skittering down the doctor's spine... _God_, they've managed to realize faster then he thought they would. Should he go back and explain? Maybe he should just go his separate way, mail his resignation to Starfleet from halfway across the quadrant spend the next 80 odd years heading off to the farthest reaches of the Delta quadrant, there were no plans in the foreseeable future to begin exploration there.

"C'mon Spock, let's see if we can find Bones, he can probably figure out why you can throw me halfway across a room with barely a flick of the wrist."

_'Holy shit! Normal run of the mill Vulcans are close to three times stronger than humans, they can crumple a monitor like a sheet of paper _without_ being suped up on C-24, God knows what our friendly neighbourhood Vulcan can do now!' _

He really needed to go back, help them both adjust to the enhancements brought on by C-24, he couldn't just _let _a super Vulcan and an enhanced man-child like Jim loose on the Universe, the chaos they would make! They would rupture stars in their birth-nebulas, end diplomacy with new and unknown races before they could begin, offend the honour of every newly-discovered species for the rest of time! But what were they going to think when they learn what he'd done, what he'd done out of selfishness. He could have saved either in the conventional ways –but under fire, stressed, and with only enough time to save _one_…he hadn't been thinking straight, and he couldn't there was no way he could have chosen between them if he'd tried.

He slid down the wall he had been leaning against, _what should he do? Run or help?_ His decision was made for him when Spock and Jim rounded the corner and spotted him curled up against the wall sobbing, head leaning back, knees held close to his chest and tears running down his cheeks, with little chokes of breath breaking the silence.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

"Indeed." Was Spock's only response for Jim's reaction to being thrown across the storage room and through the crates. He looked down at his hands again, sure in that he had sufficiently compensated for his strength when he had lifted his captain and lover off the floor.

"C'mon Spock, let's see if we can find Bones, he can probably figure out why you can throw me halfway across a room with barely a flick of the wrist." Spock merely nodded.

When they reached the door to the storage room, they noticed the copious amount of blood that spread out across the floor and walls, along with eight bodies scattered around them, all of them showing signs of being killed by a trained, efficient and merciless hand.

"The _hell?_" Jim hissed, looking upon the bodies with a mix of awe at a killer's proficiency and horror at the gore left behind when brains had been dashed out of a man's skull and onto the floor.

"The bodies appear to be approximately half of the attacking rebels, perhaps we should find Leonard and make our way to the beam out site quickly—whoever was capable of this may not discriminate between rebels, diplomats or ourselves."

"With your impossible strength, no rebel could get near us!" Kirk said grinning like a fool, if a little shakily, with one fist held high in a heroic pose.

"Jim."

"Yeah you're right, c'mon, let's find Bones and get outta here. _He _can figure out how you can throw me across a room without even trying and how I can go through a bunch of creates without getting a scratch on me."

Spock lifted an eyebrow, "Indeed."

Searching out their phasers from amongst the rubble of smashed wood and bring them to the ready, they made their way down the hall, not failing to notice the bodies lining it. Jim bent to check the vitals of one of the fallen men when he heard what could only be described as a choked-off sob. He motioned for Spock to look up ahead, see what made the noise around the corner.

"_Leonard_," concern coloured Spock's usually vacant voice. The Vulcan quickly walked out and knelt next to the doctor to put a hand on his shoulder. Kirk joined the pair, kneeling and holding his weapon ready, flicking his eyes around, watching for danger . "Leonard?"

"I've turned you into monsters," McCoy whispered. "They'll find out and hunt us all down, experiment on us, push us to our limits, all because I was selfish, because I couldn't sit there and _lose_ you." He looked up to Spock, eyes shining, and then paused as he felt a palm across his cheek.

They were _real_. They weren't grotesquely disfigured, soulless beasts with a nasty habit of biting things!

"Hey, Bones… we're not monsters –and selfishness is greatly underappreciated in this day and age." Jim grinned, studiously ignoring the words about being hunted down. The blonde felt the tug in his stomach that said that there was a past behind that comment that needed sharing, but later. Right now, they needed to get to the transport site. "Come on Bones, we need to get off this rock so we can find out what happened with the negotiations."

Jim stood back up, took a quick glance around to make sure the way was still clear, then gestured for the others to follow him. Spock stood up with all of his usual cat like grace and was about to offer Leonard a hand up, but an image of what happened earlier with Jim jumped to mind and thought better of it.

As they made their way through the complex, Bones slowly calmed himself, realizing that both Jim and Spock were in fact _quite_ real and not hungry beasts going on a rampage, and no, he hadn't just recreated Olduvai. It dawned on him that had he gone with his original plan of '_run!'_ both of the people he loved most, alive and un-mutated, would have discovered their abilities without him to turn to, and who would have gone to Starfleet and been discovered. UAC, as dilapidated as it was, would have found them and everything he had gone through would be repeated—on _them_. _Unacceptable. _

He put a hand on Jim's shoulder, they needed to know, know what would happen, what he had done to them, "Jim, I..."

"Bones, as much as I'd love to talk, now's not a good time. When we get back home, I promise." He looked over his shoulder at Bones, then glanced at Spock and stopped. Something was wrong with their Vulcan. "Spock?"

The Vulcan looked up, he had a light sheen of perspiration forming across his brow, he was breathing slightly harder and his skin was tinged a darker shade of green than usual. "It is nothing," Spock answered, "As you said, 'when we get back home.'" And it was left at that.

They made their way through the corridors quickly, exiting the building with no further resistance, and made it to the beam-down site with little trouble. Jim flipped his communicator out and held it up to his mouth, "Kirk to _Enterprise_."

"_Enterprise_ here, Sir. We didn't expect to hear from you until tomorrow, Captain, is everything alright?" Sulu's voice crackled over the line.

"The complex was attacked, three to beam up."

"Aye, sir. Stand by for beam out. Is everyone okay?"

"We are, we're not sure about the ambassadors though. Later, Lieutenant."

Kirk closed the line as the transport began. The swirling lights and the tingling feeling, almost like having ants walk across your skin, the feeling of your molecules being disassembled, then the sensation of being in two places at once, and finally having your molecules reassembled unnerved Bones, but after going through the Arc it was like being ran into by a nervous Cadet on their first day at the Academy. Annoying and slightly disorientating. In comparison, the Arc was like being hit by a truck travelling at 200 km/h and surviving to watch the bloody mess that had been your _head_ get hosed off the free-way.

The three of them stood there for a few moments breathing out their relief at being in the safety of Jim's fair lady, _Enterprise_.

"Heard you ran into some trouble Cap'n. Everything alright?" Scotty's Scottish brogue greeted the three.

"A few storm troopers Scotty, nothing we could handle." Jim said, glancing at Spock and Bones, distinctly remembering coming within a hair's breadth of bleeding to death.

"The blood stains say something else, Cap'n." He motioned towards both Spock's and Jim's torn and stained shirts. "Are you sure you're fine, sir?" worry colouring his voice.

"Shit." Jim quickly went and removed his command yellows and motioned for Spock to do the same with his science blues, "Not a word of this leaves that mouth of yours, not until I say otherwise, got it?" he said pointing a finger at the Scott manning the transporter controls and giving pointed looks to the other technicians at their stations, making sure they got the message..

"Aye sir," Scotty said with a meek nod.

Jim then moved to the comm. connected to the controls and opened a link to the bridge.

"Kirk to the bridge, Sulu you still there?"

"Yes sir. Sulu here."

"Keep the Conn until the end of Alpha shift."

"Aye sir."

"Kirk out." He then turned to his lovers, "I think we need to have a bit of a chat." Spock titled his head in the affirmative and McCoy just looked away, avoiding everyone's gaze.

When they had left the transporter room Scotty turned to one of the technicians and said, "Well, that was might strange. Something big must've happened down there."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"I think we need to have a bit of a chat." The confusion of what had happened down on the planet was eating Jim alive now that he had enough relative safety to think about it. He had been sure he had been shot, not just one hundred percent sure, but absolutely _certain. _The blood stained command yellows, still in his hand proved that. Yet he was not bleeding, was not in any physical pain, and was well and truly alive. He glanced at Spock beside him, his features schooled into their usual neutrality, but his eyes holding the same confusion, worry even, which was amplified across the partial bond between them. Bones' emotion were also skittering at the surface of his mind, but they were too scattered and their connection too weak for him to get anything solid.

Jim continued walking towards their quarters, thinking about what happened, and what Bones had said, _"I've turned you into monsters.", "They'll find out and hunt us all down, experiment on us, push us to our limits, all because I was selfish, because I couldn't sit there and lose you."_, Bones had done something to them, something that he was ashamed of, or feared. He had done it out of love, Jim could feel it coming through, despite the flimsy status of the bond and scattered emotions. It clung to him, as if he had just walked through a silk spider web, invisible to the eyes but felt on the skin, vaguely sticky. It was this that held the captain captive, and made him want to hear what his lover, afraid and sick with love, had to say. He wanted to forgive and hold him already, tell him that he was being stupid for feeling selfish… But who was..._are_ 'they'?

When they reached their quarter's shared living area, Jim punched in their pass code and entered, the other two following him. He turned and looked at his lovers. Spock was looking a little greener around the edges than usual, and Bones was somewhere else entirely, eyes distant, skin almost gray and he was shaking, badly.

"Maybe we should sit, you two look like death warmed over." He grinned, the smile not quite reaching his eyes. He didn't miss the slight tremor that interrupted the pattern of Bones' shaking.

Spock tilted his head in the affirmative and led the way to the small sitting area. Leonard took a moment to catch up on what had been said, but when it all processed he followed Spock's lead.

Jim sat down heavily next to McCoy and looked at the ripped and blood stained shirts in both his and Spock's clutches, _'We have definitely been shot.'_ He glanced at Bones, then back to his red dyed shirt, and did a double take, _'When did Bones remove his blues?'_

As for Bones, he started staring at his hands as soon as they sat down. What does someone say when they've turned their lovers and the only close friends they had made in over a century into creatures that are next to impossible to kill, heal so fast that they don't age, and if they are found, will be hunted down and experimented on? With a shifting, uncertain apprehension the hazel-eyed doctor realized there was only one thing he _could_ say.

_'The truth.'_

He took a deep breath, looked up at his companions and dived in head first, "Staff Sergeant John Grimm, XO of the RRTS-6, serial number: 647-38, Handler ID: Reaper."

"...Huh?" grunted Jim, "What?"

"McCoy isn't my original name."

"Your original _what_?"

"The name I was given at birth was not Leonard Horatio McCoy… it was John Grimm."

"I do not understand." Spock spoke up.

McCoy sighed, telling this story made him feel sick, no one was supposed to learn it –ever. Not even Spock and Jim, no matter how much he loved them. Except that now they were in the same boat, and it was _his fault. _"I was born in the year 2023... I think."

"You think? Wait, 2023?"

"Damn it Jim, do you want an explanation as to why you and Spock aren't down on that God forsaken planet dead from haemorrhaging, or not?" He growled, getting a little frustrated at being interrupted, anxiety flooding him. _'What if they don't believe me? What if they do and they are disgusted by me?'_

"Sorry," Jim mumbled, seeing the frustration and apprehension crossing his human lover's face and something else that, quite frankly, scared the _shit_ out him.

Looking to Spock he continued, "In the year 2026 archaeologists working in the Nevada desert discovered a portal to an ancient city on Mars, they called this portal the Arc. Twenty years later we were still struggling to understand why it was built and what happened to the civilization that built it." He paused and looked at his audience, Jim was silent, and Spock just nodded for him to continue. _'What are they thinking? Do they think I've finally lost the plot?' _

"The Arc sent the user to Olduvai, the Martian city, from Earth in moments. It decompiled you to your molecules and chucked you across space and recompiled you on the other side. Think transporters, only you can feel your molecules moving through the vacuum of space, faster than should be possible.

"The UAC, United Aerospace Corporation, had set up some labs and experimental facilities around the Olduvai Arc, testing weapons, genetics, the original inhabitants, you know, the usual stuff. In '46, something happened in the genetics section. The Rapid Response Tactical Squad Six was called in to deal with it, assess the threat level, retrieve UAC property, and if necessary perform search and destroy functions against whatever it was that was threatening the science teams stationed there. Staff Sergeant John 'Reaper' Grimm, that is to say, I, was the second in command of that squad.

"One of their experiments had gone terribly wrong; a creature that had originally been human was injected with an agent created by studying the genetics of the humanoid remains found in the archaeological digs. It added an extra chromosome." McCoy paused again and looked down at his hands.

"The extra chromosome, what are the effects on the operation of the human body?" asked Spock, ever the scientist.

McCoy chuckled darkly, "Depends on the person." He looked back up, "The first test subject turned into a monster, literally. He grew to 7 feet 6 inches, his nails became daggers, green, his mouth became more like an inside out cactus than anything designed to eat food. Think Gorn, only uglier, with more teeth, taller, one thousand times faster, and stronger than you ever care to imagine, with a taste for human flesh."

"That seems unlikely, Leonard, a Gorn-like creature being created by the addition of an extra pair of chromosomes to the human genome."

"Let's stick you is a sealed lab with one of the things and you'll see how unlikely it is," was McCoy's growled response. "Listen, I know how insane this sounds, but it happened, I was there. 200 odd years ago, I was _there_ with the name John Grimm." Bones stopped talking then, the memories flooding in along with the tidal wave of emotions brought with them.

"Hey, Bones... What do you mean, 'depends on the person'?" Jim asked and moved closer to him, resting a hand between McCoy's shoulder blades for support.

"The creature started sticking people with its tongue and injecting them full of this... stuff, that gave them the extra chromosome, turned them into the beasts as well. But only those with a certain genetic marker, other people, it changes them, makes them stronger, faster... heal fifty times quicker. " He stopped again, took a breath to calm down and to move the lump in his throat.

"Those they didn't convert, they killed. They made it back through the Arc to Earth and we followed. It became clear that my CO was killing indiscriminately, he ordered the Kid to clear a room full of families and when he didn't..." He took another shuddering breath, looking at his hands palm up, seeing the blood covering them. Jim rubbed small circles on his back, Jim didn't know who 'the Kid' was, nor what his relationship to Bones –Reaper?—had been, but he could guess at what had happened and tears welled up in his eyes as a flood of anger and grief came through their link.

"It was his first mission," Bones snarled through clenched teeth, his voice strained and laced with anger. He took a deep breath, trying to get oxygen past the lump in his throat and ease the burning behind his eyes. "Goddamn it! He killed so many safe, _good_ people!"

The comm. Whistled for attention, Kirk got up to answer it looking at Spock pointedly. Spock scooted over so he was in the place vacated by Jim. "Kirk, here. What is it?"

"Captain, the leaders of the planetary governments are hailing us."

Kirk looked over his shoulder to his lovers and met Spock's eye, who nodded for him to go. "I'll be there in a minute. Kirk out." He shut off the comm. and glanced over his shoulder again before heading out.

The trip to the bridge was short but disconcerting. Crewmembers were standing back and avoiding him as though he might bite their heads off at the slightest provocation.

As he stalked onto the bridge he signalled Uhura to put the men up on screen. "Captain Kirk here, what can I do for you gentlemen?" He paused, "and lady," he added with a nod to the single female ambassador.

"When we heard of the attack on the diplomatic meeting and the news that you and your people were nowhere to be seen, we were worried. We merely wish to extend our most sincere apologies."

"Well we accept your apologies; however until you can deal with your extremists, no federation personnel will be sent down to help with negotiations and no alliance will be possible." He growled out.

"Of course, of course, we will get right onto them," The leader of the group said hurriedly, all too eager, it seemed, to end the conversation.

Kirk nodded, "If that is all..."

"Yes. Yes, of course."

Kirk gestured for the connection to be cut. He was slightly confused at their reaction to his statement that was until he caught sight of himself in the reflection on the view screen. He was a mess, a very intimidating mess. Blood smeared his face and neck and the exposed flesh of his shoulder, not just his own blood, bright red streaks dulling to deep matte blacks and browns, but Spock's oxidized-green blood, and the florescent blue blood of the native aliens turning sickly purple as it dried in the sterile air of the ship. He had deep purple bags under his eyes and a grim expression, all contributing to make him look murderous. _'Huh, that explains the crew's looks.'_

He walked over to his chair and opened a channel to engineering, "Scotty, you there?"

"Aye sir, how can I help you?"

"I'm taking McCoy, Spock, and myself off active duty for a few days, I need you take over."

"Aye, Cap'n. You three alright?"

"I don't know Scotty. I just don't know." He sighed and slumped into his chair.

"Alright, I'll be on the bridge in a minute, you go get some rest now Cap'n."

"Yeah."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 **

Jim made his way back to the quarters, still slightly disturbed by his skittish crew throwing horrified frowns at the blood-splatter across his body. Exhaustion was setting in and he was still covered in gore, so he didn't blame them, hell, from what he saw of his reflection, he would be scared shitless of him, too.

When he opened the door, Jim was greeted by the sound of the shower running. Bones and Spock had probably taken notice of the dried blood they were covered in. As the door swished shut behind him, Jim pulled off his damp under shirt, grimacing at the congealing blood that now stained his hands and smeared his chest, pale after months in space with no way to maintain his once golden tan.

Dumping the shirt in the garbage, he looked around and scooped up his and Spock's over shirts and poked his fingers through some of the holes in the fabric, and wondering how the hell Bones had lived so long or if any of it could be true. _'No, it's true… its _Bones_ –and he wouldn't make something like this up for shits and giggles.'_

Kirk made his way into the bathroom and found Spock and Bones leaning against each other under the spray of a real water shower. He pulled off the remainder of his damp uniform and climbed in to join them. He rinsed off the worst of the grime then leaned up behind bones and rested his chin on his shoulder.

"What happened next?" Jim whispered and wrapped his arms around Bones' toned waist and rubbed small circles into his hips.

"Perhaps it would be best if we continued this conversation in a mind meld." Spock suggested when he felt Leonard shudder against him and a stab of panic mixed with apprehension assaulted the part of his mind connected to the doctor's.

"Didn't you say that doing that would solidify the bonds we have and effectively make us married in the eyes of Vulcans?" McCoy asked from the crook of Spock's neck.

"I did and it will."

"How can you be okay with that? I'm in the middle of a story telling you how I'm a mutant freak."

"Bones, you're too good of a person to be a monster, and I love you –_we_ love you. Whatever you did is _done_, and now we need to deal with it …_together_, and so _help_ me if you try to wallow in this alone, I'll _bite_ you!" Jim growled into the shoulder he had been nuzzling.

Together and terrified, Spock raised his sensitive hands to his lovers' faces, placing his fingers delicately on their temples and over their eyes. He had the most knowledge on what would occur next, and he was, of the three, the most sure on their course of action. As the spray of water washed over their heads, his mind reached out to touch theirs, one flame-bright and new, the other shy—and very old.

"My mind to your minds." _'My thoughts to your thoughts.'_

A rush of movement. Pinkie, gone. "Get Sam!" Sister. They're coming. Hundreds of them. Retreat. Failure in the nano-wall. Blood. Duke, gone. Sarge, gone. Keep firing. Pain. Burning, pain. Must get Sam to safety.

Tired. Keep her safe. So tired. Can't go any further. Pain. Blood. "Listen to me Sam." "Pop the top and hit the button." "Pop the top..." C-24. "You're my brother. I know you." "You're my brother..."

Darkness. "Sam?" Confusion. Find Sam. Monsters. Shoot. Power thrumming, life... Death. Monsters. Blood. "Sam?" Pinkie... Sort of. _'John'._ More monsters. Blood. "Sam?"

Quarantine almost over. "Sam!" Sarge. Bad, very bad. Turning. Shoot him. Half a clip. "I got... One round." Jump. Chase him, kill him. Find him. Smell him. Hart beat. Breathing. Move. Gone. "Semper fi, Motherfucker. Faithful to the core."

Fast. Very fast. Punch, kick, swing punch, kick, fly. Hold him. Thrown. Punch. Metal. Pain. Wall. _'The Portal.' _Push. Button. Push. Swing. Portal. Wait. Release. Pain. Nothing. "Like the Kid said. Go to hell."

_Sam. "Almost home."_

................

Research facility. "NO!" Instinct. Bodies everywhere. UAC officers. Sam's in danger. My fault. Have to leave. Streets. Camps. Hunger. Them or me. Survive. Must survive. Death means opportunity to be studied. Hunger. Food. _Sam?_ No. Help them. Leave. Cage Reaper.

News. Sam dead. Funeral.

Roam. Hide.

Storm. UAC falls. Free. Leonard H. McCoy. Medical school. Doctor. Jocelyn. Joanna. Happy.

Discovery. Panic. Not going to reveal, for sake of Joanna. Disgusting. Divorce.

Starfleet. Space. Shuttle. _Jim._ Academy. Vulcan. Enterprise. _Spock. Happy..._

Ambush. Blood. Bullets. _JIM! SPOCK!_ Reaper. Blood. Death. _'Can't lose you.'_ Bite. Save. Realization. _'OhGodwhathaveIdone?'_ Never forgive me. _RUN!_

Alive. Fear. Discovery. UAC will find us. Will have to hide again. Run....

...........

All three broke apart, gasping for breath. Tears making their way down cheeks, only noticeably by the little wet gasps, reddened eyes and the taste of salt on lips pressed, seeking comfort in the crook of necks.

"Bones..." Jim grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him around. "God, Bones..." Kissing him soundly, sucking on wet lips, nipping them and licking them better, tongue delving deeper. _'Love you, both of you.'_ A hand twined with his and lips descended on his shoulder.

_'How can they both forgive me for turning them into monsters?'_

_'Because we _love you_ Leonard, and because we are _not _monsters.'_

Bones broke away from Jim, "Spock?" he gasped.

_'Correct. The bonds have been solidified, and I will attest to you: _none of us_ are _monsters_.'_

_'And, Bones, we'll never leave you, no matter what. Right, Spock?'_ and of course Jim would pick up the whole telepathic thing straight away. There was a chuckle from his shoulder and a murmur of approval from the other.

'_You still don't know what I've done to you –you can't accept me yet.'_

_'We _do_ know. You've turned us into creatures like you. Faster, stronger, smarter, better senses. We're okay with that.' _Jim's mental presence was like sunshine on a spring day, inviting and warm to the skin.

_'Yes we are, Leonard.'_ Spock thought at them, and punctuated this with a sensuous lick from the edge of McCoy's shoulder to the tip of his ear, causing both Leonard and Jim to shiver in pleasure.

"Ok, that was weird. Spock, I felt that."

"Telepathic feedback loop. I too felt myself lick my shoulder. It was... an odd sensation." He then proceeded to do it again. _'You taste good.'_

Bones pulls out of their grip, a scowl forming on his features, "I turn you into creatures, who will have no choice but to watch as everything you hold dear dies and turns to dust before your eyes, and share with you my entire life story in the space of a few minutes, and all you can think about is sexing me up?" outrage was forming in his scowl.

"Bones..." Jim runs a hand through his dripping hair, looks at it still smeared in trace amounts of blood and stops. _'I almost died! Spock almost died! If you weren't what you are, what we are now, you'd have been dead years ago, and I'm sorry if you find this offensive, but I can't help but be grateful that those scientists created C-24, because without it we'd _all_ be dead and we'd never have met you, fallen in love with you, or basically married you in a shower!'_

The scowl slowly disappeared from his face as he listened to Jim, then his last sentence sank in and he started to smile, then chuckle, and after a minute was on the floor of the shower gasping for air between fits of laughter with Jim next to him and Spock standing above them confusion seeping into their minds along with a steadily rising eyebrow that was only fuelling the laughter.

"I fail to see the humour in Jim's statement."

"Spock... we just got married... in a shower... butt naked. Don't tell me that isn't hilarious," Bones managed between chuckles.

"I... see."

"No you don't. Give us a hand up Spock." Jim chuckled and held out his hand and, forgetting what happened last time, Spock lifted him and put him through the shower door. Glass littered the floor and blood seeped from the scratches across Jim's body.

Jim mock-glared at Spock, "Ow," he deadpanned, tiny cuts healed before he even finished the short word, and the laughter started again.

"I believe we may have to test our new abilities extensively and learn to control them, before we can return to duty."Spock said looking at his hand with pure fascination, a look usually reserved for fascinating, new experiments.

**AN: These first six chapters have now been beta'd by the marvellous and awesome Catc10, she has basically made this a fantastic fic, if I do say so myself. Everyone thank her for fixing my childish writing and send your love her way, because without her this was a badly written, repetitive **_**realisation of a tell and not show **_**storey, now I'm proud to call it our brain child. **


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